


Main Attraction

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: No matter how much they spend time with the in-laws, Carol & Therese still feel like a couple of strange outsiders.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Kudos: 40





	Main Attraction

Therese had not been prepared for the winter afternoon sunshine to beam so brightly on her squinting face and felt more and more like a burning ghost with her shoes crunching through soft gravel. She walked a mere foot apart behind Carol towards the small group of ladies that were seated outside the rose garden behind the Airds’ New Jersey home. She spotted Harge’s mother all dressed up in lavender with a stylish hat to match. Her friends, and they too were much older, wore shades of pink, red, and gold. They had plates of shortbread cookies, finger sandwiches, and cups of lemon tea, set before them. 

“There they are! My girls!” Jennifer Aird announced happily at the sight of her ex-daughter-in-law and her timid young lover. Mrs. Aird stood up from her seat at the bistro table with a smile on her face. The other ladies turned from their chairs, staring curiously. 

“Typical of Carol for being so late,” Harge’s mother chuckled, ignoring the sharp glance she was given, while exchanging side kisses before leaning over to do the same thing with Therese. “Please forgive their tardiness...”

“We weren’t too sure if we would come at all,” Carol added tartly, giving the women a tight smile. She removed her light fur coat and draped it over the head of an empty iron wrought chair.

“Therese, meet my _girlfriends_ ,” Jennifer went on, sliding an arm around her small shoulders. “Maude, Imogen, Sybil, and Vivien!” 

Nodding at the silver-haired curious, aging faces, Therese allowed herself to be seated across from Carol, who was trying to hide her disappointment.

“How old are you, dearie?” one asked.

“Twenty.”

“So young,” another gushed. 

“Her eyes are too serious,” a third observed. 

“Are you married? Surely, you’ve been asked already!” 

“That’s quite enough, ladies,” Jennifer warned them, gesturing for Therese to go ahead and take a cookie. She obligingly did so, biting the top half, getting vanilla crumbs on her blouse. She was glad to be out of the blaring sun. The patio’s umbrella draped over their heads had supported a lot of shade.

“The last time I saw you, Carol, was at your wedding,” spoke the woman named Sybil. “Your hair was longer back then. You were so cute and happy, too!”

“Was I? That seemed like a century ago.”  
Carol busily unclasped her velvet coin purse to pull out her golden cigarette case. She offered the pack of parliaments, but it was only Therese who leaned over to take one.

“If you don’t mind, we would not like to have any smoke in our faces,” Mrs. Aird grouched. “So please, Carol. If you must...” she waved her hand for a dismissal.

Carol rose up from her seat, looking rather pleased with herself. “Ladies, my sincerest apologies. Would you excuse me? Nice seeing you all again.” She sent Therese a look for them to hightail it. Feeling eager to do so, Therese abruptly got up to leave.

They moved a good distance away from Jen Aird and her catty tea friends to stand and smoke between two, neatly-trimmed hedges with a carved stone figure of a cherub holding a water pitcher against his bare chest. Therese felt Carol’s hand swat her playfully. 

“Are you still with me?” she asked her.

“Yes.” Therese puffed out and flicked ashes with her nail. One arm folded. 

“It’s rather chilly out here with that sun poking beneath the clouds. We can go inside for a bit,” Carol suggested.

“Alright,” Therese agreed.

As they walked back towards the mansion home, they could hear a record playing opera music belting down the hallway foyer into all the rooms.

Approaching them with a glass of vodka with ice, was Harge’s father, John Aird. He raised the drink to them in greeting. 

“Hello, Carol. Therese,” he said cheerfully. “You both decided to hide out from Jen and her friends, too?” 

“Yes,” Carol smiled wanly.

Therese shyly pressed up behind her with her nose buried into the silk fabric of her green-yellow blouse.


End file.
